


Speechless

by SarunoHadaki



Category: Dragon Quest XI
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Erik is a smart boi, Finals suck, First Dates, M/M, Misunderstandings, Sign Language, mention of past selective mutism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-15 11:13:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29435133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SarunoHadaki/pseuds/SarunoHadaki
Summary: College student Eleven has lost his voice to an acute case of laryngitis. But that doesn't stop a certain blue-haired stranger from asking for, and actually going on, a date with him.
Relationships: Camus | Erik & Hero | Luminary
Kudos: 4





	Speechless

Being sick effing sucked. What made it even worse, however, was having to go out and _do_ things when being effing sick, which Eleven indubitably was.

To be fair, He didn’t want to go out, not only for his own well-being but for those poor souls who would have to contend with him. But it was his first year of college, finals week, and his fever had already gone down substantially from the night before.

It was laryngitis. And his voice was gone.

It could be a lot worse, however. He only needed to show up, sit down, and take a few tests, so it wasn’t like he had to worry about asking questions during lectures or getting picked on to answer his hippie teacher’s super-obvious questions because he was the only one patient enough to put up with her in their race relations class.

And Serena had been providing him with a steady flow of lemon lozenges, dropping by his dorm room whenever she could to sneak more to him like they were partners in some underground drug operation.

 _And_ he just so happened to know quite a bit of American sign language because he _may_ have been selectively mute as a child and volunteered at a school for the deaf down the street.

He let out a dry cough as he flipped through his notes, the front of his head absolutely pounding. One week. One week of this crap and it still hadn’t gone away. He was sitting at his posse’s favorite study spot in the library, Veronica sitting across from him with her feet on the table, leaned back in her chair without a care in the world.

“El, he’s been staring at you for the past half hour. Aren’t you going to say something?” Serena asked, seated next to him.

He shook his head. He was not going to waste his one-hour break between classes worrying about some guy who was staring at him. Didn’t everyone know the very crust of the earth would be torn open if El didn’t finish memorizing the carbon cycle and land-ocean interactions for his global change class? He started flipping through his notecards like his life depended on it, but the information was soaring over his head. His eyes were glazing over. Maybe this was the end for him. He shut his eyes and dropped his head onto his book, suppressing a groan that would certainly tear his throat open anew.

He barely heard the footsteps padding across the carpet, and the strange accent clearing its throat before saying, “Excuse me.”

El closed his eyes. Goddess, take him now. The guy even _sounded_ crazy.

“El,” Serena whispered and shook him.

He sighed, spending the last bit of his energy to raise his head and look up at his admirer. El’s veins thumped against his temple with a renewed vigor as he stared. Oh no, he was _hot._

He had little gold hoops in his ears and a black beanie on his head, concealing his electric blue hair, save for the little bang sticking over his right eye. Some dog tags hung around his neck and jangled over his white T-shirt, which cut a generous V into his chest. El didn’t look any further down, too shocked already by his blue eyes and curious face.

«Sorry,» El signed, «I wasn’t ignoring you.» His hands moved quickly from one word to the other, but it was obvious from the first sign that the guy was lost.

“Hey, uh,” the guy looked over at Serena and Veronica, but they refused to elucidate, more than happy to watch them flounder. “Oh wait, can you read lips?” he asked, face lighting with realization as he pointed to his lips.

As much as El would have loved staring at his lips all day, he couldn’t bring himself to lie. He shook his head. «I’m hearing,» he said, rolling his index finger in front of his lips. When the blue-haired stranger furrowed his brows, El straightened in his chair. “Heeeaaareeeng,” he silently mouthed, almost desperate at this point to keep his attention.

“Ohhh, cool,” he smiled. “Can I have your number?”

El stared for a second and beanie boy stared back. “Uh, _I mean,_ only if you’re chill with it! It doesn’t have to be a gay thing or anything.”

Veronica snorted, beanie boy looking over at her. “Hit the hay chump, he’s not into guys like you.”

“But then he’s into guys?”

“That’s _not_ what I said,” Veronica growled.

“Yes, it is! You just said—”

El reached over and tapped him on a ringed hand. He looked up, and El fingerspelled C-E-L-L, gesturing with a beckoning hand for the phone. Beanie boy got the gist and shuffled around in his skinny jeans, pulled the iPhone out, unlocked it, and handed it over.

His screen was cracked near the inner camera, a web of fractures spreading down the upper half of the glass. Didn’t look like he was going to be taking any selfies any time soon, unfortunately. El’s thumbs _papped_ away on the screen, filling out the contact with his name and number. He handed the phone back, fingers brushing against each other.

The boy stared down at his phone for a quick second, typing away at something, then El’s phone dinged.

“Name’s Erik,” he said. “I texted you, so give me a call sometime?” he sheepishly rubbed the back of his head, then started again. “Oh crap, I mean — _text._ Text sometime.”

El eagerly nodded, though Veronica’s face soured. “Get out of here, punk,” she said, lifting a leg as though threatening to kick him.

“Whatever,” he scowled. “See ya later, El,” he said, then gave a little salute before turning and walking away.

El sighed, sliding down in his chair until his butt hung off the edge, and though it hurt his brain to stare at his screen any longer, he unlocked his phone to stare at Erik’s message.

“Uck, you’re not _seriously_ considering going out with him, are you?” Veronica asked.

“I think he looked rather cute,” Serena said.

“Yes, but you’re rather _thick,”_ Veronica teased.

Serena huffed, leaning over to pinch her sister on the nose as El sighed. He turned to Veronica. 

“Jealous,” he muttered through inflamed vocal cords, and Veronica turned red, melting into a sputtering, murderous mess.

“I am _absolutely not!”_ she screeched, and someone dared to shush her, making her sink into her chair with a sour face.

El shook his head, grinning, as he lay his head on his textbook and closed his eyes.

~*~*~<<>>~*~*~<<>>~*~*~

“Caffé latte for Rick!”

An apron-clad woman shouted from her spot behind the counter, slamming down a foamy drink and paper-wrapped straw. Rick shuffled up to the counter, staring at his phone the whole time like a zombie, took the drink, then slipped away, back through the sea of people waiting in the Starbucks lobby for their order to be called.

The campus Starbucks wasn’t El’s favorite, but lately he could always go for a good steaming cup of tea. So, he’d agreed when Erik suggested it and now stood next to him in the long line for the register, staring at the greasy college students in slippers and Greek T-shirts. It was Monday morning, the third-to-last day of finals, and those who were still left taking tests probably felt just as miserable as El about still being on campus, especially this early in the morning while summer burned on the horizon.

Usually, El would still be in bed or burying himself in notes for his Tuesday final, but he thought he deserved a break and was feeling _generally_ good enough to be walking around, though his voice still hadn’t returned.

He was enjoying the eye candy that was Erik, who had little black gauges in his ears and wore another V-neck. He was sans beanie today, which earned him a few glances from passersby, but many students had already entered the too-tired-to-give-a-shit phase of college, not bothering with a double-take.

“What year are you?” Erik asked, looking at him.

El held up one finger.

“Oh, first year?” Erik asked, and El nodded. “Congrats on getting past it! It’s pretty tough sometimes for kids who’re moving away from home for the first time. You from around here?”

El shook his head. «You?» he signed, pointing to Erik.

“Oh, me? Nah, I’m not from around here. Just barely made it in after transferring from community college two years ago.”

It was so weird, signing to a hearing person and getting to see the effort in Erik’s scrunched-up brow whenever El made a new sign. But mostly Erik avoided that by sticking to yes or no questions and took it upon himself to carry the conversation, which El didn’t mind. El liked staring at him as he spoke about astronomy, celestial objects, quantum theory, and extragalactic astrophysics, whatever the fuck that meant. It was still a little too early in the morning for El to put in the extra effort to understand any of it. He didn’t even know the sign for _extragalactic,_ hadn’t known it was a word, really.

He yawned, reaching up to rub his eyes from behind the round glasses Sylv had pressured him into buying a year ago because he said they helped cover his huge-ass eyebrows.

“Oh, am I boring you?” Erik asked. They inched closer to the register, El staring at scones sprinkled with chunks of sugar from the other side of a glass display case.

He shook his head. He lifted his hands against his chest and dropped them down, mouthing _tired_.

“We can do this some other time,” Erik said.

El’s eyebrows drew down, scowling, as he started signing again. «I can hang! You’re fun to listen to! I’m not bored at all!»

“Woah, okay, forget I said anything,” Erik said with a laugh.

They reached the counter and El pulled out his phone, typing up his order. He showed it to the cashier then reached for his pocket.

“I can get this,” Erik said. “I’ll have a venti Americano with an extra shot,” he said to the cashier and brought out a few dollar bills.

What an old man, to still carry cash around with him! Erik paid for the drinks and told the cashier his name, then they stepped aside to wait.

“What are you studying?” Erik asked. “Let’s see if I can figure it out.”

El shrugged his shoulders. He was still undecided, so he was taking a few different classes his first year to figure it out. At least he was getting a lot of gen ed credits out of the way.

“Oh, I see,” Erik mumbled. “Man, I was expecting something tough! C’mon, give me something to translate.”

El grinned and lifted his fingers, pointing a few times to the ceiling. He signed «astronomy,» staring at Erik’s baffled face. This turned out to be a very good way to while away the time, shaking his head to every guess Erik had to throw at him.

“Okay, I give up. What is it?” Erik asked.

El typed the word up on his phone and turned to show him.

“Whaaat? You rascal,” Erik scoffed. “How’d you do it again?”

El repeated the sign, then stared at Erik as he followed along, his eyebrows drawn down in concentration. El nodded, quickly doing it one last time.

At the school for the deaf where El volunteered, he was used to seeing kids mirror him whenever he was teaching them a new sign. He never tired of the way their faces lit up once they grasped a word, repeating it over and over.

“What’s ‘study?’” Erik asked.

El straightened his shoulders and lifted his left hand like an open book, wiggling his right fingers toward the palm.

Erik grinned as he pointed to himself, signing, «I study astronomy.»

El’s heart gushed. Erik was too cute, especially when he made that little pleased smile.

“Erik!” The barista called, and Erik turned to the counter, retrieving their drinks. El accepted his drink with two hands, eagerly pulling open his straw and popping his lips onto it, sucking up his honey citrus mint tea.

The life-saving elixir flowed into his belly, all the sweet flavors mingling with a refreshing snap that had him smacking his lips.

Erik smiled as he tucked his straw into his coffee. “Where to next?” he asked.

~*~*~<<>>~*~*~<<>>~*~*~

Mum would probably be a little worried if she found out how much El was signing today. She had spent many years worrying whether El would ever get comfortable talking with others after he was diagnosed with selective mutism as a child. It took everyone a while to understand that to speak to unfamiliar people made him anxious. It didn’t matter that it was an irrational fear — it had a very real impact on his life.

It had taken years of behavioral therapy before Eleven started to make small steps toward speaking to strangers. He had been averse to all communication, so it stood to reason that signing would be part of the issue too. But strangely enough, he had started to like making gestures, found that he could tolerate resorting to signing in public if it meant not having to worry about people judging the sound of his voice.

And signing was cool, like a secret language that only special members were allowed into, and it meant that if someone ever really wanted to talk to him, they had to pay careful attention. Conversations with other signing kids were always fun, a flurry of fingers and funny faces and sometimes huffs of frustration as they meandered into fruitless arguments. Signing eased open the door to other pathways of communication, helping El grasp the other forms, too.

Once El started signing, he didn't want to stop, and the same could be said of that very moment, sitting in the grass across from Erik, hands roaming from his face to his chest as he signed, never mind that Erik couldn’t understand him.

«How can you pierce your ears like that?» El asked, face scrunching up. «I have a high pain tolerance, but they look weird. Do you ever get questions because you're a guy?»

Erik tilted his head. "What?” He asked with a laugh. Mostly he was staring at El's face, like that could somehow help him decipher what El was saying.

"Earrin—" El tried for a word but his throat came out scratchy and useless, El reaching up to massage the vocal cords. He took another sip of his tea, sighing.

"Oh, my earrings?" Erik asked. El nodded. El liked the way he asked questions: so gently, with a hint of inflection at the end.

"I got them because I thought they'd make me look tough. Do I look tough?" He asked with a smirk.

Erik must have known how handsome he was, right? That he could charm any woman (or man) into falling for him with just one wink, earrings or not? …And that earrings didn’t make him look tough in the slightest?

«You look sexy,» El grinned, hand swiveling in front of his chest.

"Say that again?" Erik asked.

El’s cheeks heated. He shook his head, smiling.

"Aw, come on! It's not like I can understand you anyway," Erik said.

«Sexy,» El fingerspelled quickly.

“You’re not too bad yourself,” Erik said.

El shook his head, scoffing, throat protesting. El very much doubted Erik knew what he was saying, and instead was only playing along and hoping he gave out the right reaction.

Erik’s phone went off and they both jumped.

“Ah shit, I have to go to work,” Erik said as he silenced the alarm.

El sighed. But he was having so much fun! Did they have to stop now?

“We should do this again,” Erik said, turning to him.

El nodded hard enough to inflict whiplash.

“Well then, I guess…” Erik started but his voice fizzed out as he leaned forward.

El leaned forward too, eager to taste the shitty Americano on Erik's lips. His hands slid across the scratchy grass and he closed his eyes. _I wonder if coffee's bad for my throat_ , he thought, and just like a slap in the face, he remembered he was sick with laryngitis and shoved Erik away with a panicked start.

Erik jerked back, mouth parted, blue eyes wide and searching for an explanation.

El's eyes went wide too, and he signed «sorry,» hands moving in a frenzy. «I'm sick,» he explained, hands going to his forehead and stomach as he grimaced.

He didn't think about how Erik might interpret that, didn't stop to consider that Erik didn't know that making faces was a part of signing and had nothing to do with him.

"Uh, I've gotta go," Erik said and stood, wiping the dirt from his jeans.

El sighed, rising with him. He mimicked texting an invisible phone then pointed to himself. «Text me?»

"Um... yeah, sure, I'll see you later," Erik said, then walked away.

El stared at his back as he left. He wanted to scream, but settled with clutching the sides of his head, all but tearing his hair out over his stupid, stupid mistake.

~*~*~<<>>~*~*~<<>>~*~*~

"I'm not saying he was the _one_ , I'm just saying he was really cute."

El closed his eyes, flattening the pillow under his stomach as he spoke into his phone. His voice came out quiet and thin, but it was there as he recited the events of the date to his flamboyant friend. It was just his luck that his voice would start coming back the night after his date.

"Oh honey," Sylv clicked his tongue on the other end. "There's plenty of fish in the sea!"

"Uh-huh," El sighed. He rolled onto his back and stared at his little room. He used to have a roommate, but they'd already moved out, leaving half the room empty. El should be packing too, but he'd lost all motivation to do so. "If you had been there you would understand. He was... _so_ _beautiful_ ," El swooned.

"Beautiful boys are also the most dangerous," Sylv warned. "What about that cute blond-haired boy? You know, the one with the ugly eyes?"

El's lips turned down. "No." His name was Faris. They had a class together but Faris was too talkative, spoiled, and lazy. It would never work out.

"Erik said yes to a date even though I was only signing the whole time," El said. Erik was so sweet. So understanding.

"So you didn't talk the whole date?" Sylv gasped. "And you pushed him away at the end because you didn't want him to get sick."

"Uh-huh..."

"Sweetie, did he know that? Did you _tell_ him you were sick?"

El cleared his throat. "It slipped my mind."

Sylv gasped again. “He doesn’t know you’re sick at all! He thinks you just can’t talk!”

"We don't... we don't know that," El muttered. His throat sounded like it had gone through a wood chipper.

"El, honey, you have to explain to him! Just imagine the look on his face when you start talking!"

El had to admit, that was quite the alluring prospect. Even if Erik never spoke to him again, Veronica would get a kick out of it.

"I'll text him," El said.

"No, you have to do this in person."

"Sylv, I have a test tomorrow. I move out on Thursday."

"Packing can wait, love cannot!"

"Okay," El sighed through a smile. "I'm going to let you go now. Have to rest my vocal cords if I'm gonna have any voice left to surprise this guy with."

"Good luck honey, I'm rooting for you!"

"G’night," El said, then hung up, dropping his head onto his pillow and squeezing as tight as he could.

He turned back to his screen, squinting at the light. He went to Erik's contact and stared at their messages.

"Are you free to talk tomorrow?" El texted.

He waited. There was no immediate response, so he slipped out of bed and busied himself with cleaning his room, packing away his clothes. Fifteen minutes ticked by before his phone buzzed and he grabbed it again.

"11:30, outside Starbucks work?" Erik's message asked.

"Yes," El texted back immediately. "See you then!"

He turned to his suitcase and ripped through it, dumping all his clothes on the floor in a frantic search for a particular shirt.

~*~*~<<>>~*~*~<<>>~*~*~

El looked down at his watch. The minute hand ticked toward 11:10 and El stared a little longer, watching the seconds flow by. He knew he was out here too early, but he couldn't wait. And anyway, he'd just gotten out of his last test, so it wasn't like he had anything else better to do. 

He sat down at a metal table, cupped a hand on his cheek, elbow sliding from underneath him. He started to doze off, resting his head on the table when he heard someone pulling back the metal chair across from him and he started.

“Hey,” Erik said with a grin as he moved to sit down. He was wearing the usual, a short-sleeved shirt that welcomed the summer breeze, jeans, and a blue beanie covering his head.

El waved, smiling, and straightened up. Erik snorted.

“Really?” he asked and pointed to El’s shirt.

El grinned, looking down at the NASA logo across his chest. Well, what could he say?

«I look good,» he signed with a wink. Then he frowned, shoulders slumping, and started to sign an apology. «Sorry—»

“Wait, before you go apologizing, I get it. I moved too fast yesterday. I should have asked first.”

El shook his head, signing, «I’m sick.»

“Hold up, I did some research last night,” Erik said. “You’re sick, right?”

“Yes,” El croaked, eyes widening. He actually bothered to look it up? El seriously misjudged Erik, thinking that he was only humoring him with a meeting today. “I have laryngitis,” he said, voice coming out wispy.

Erik fell silent as he stared, cheeks pinking a little. Then he cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his head. “Sorry, your voice — it’s just… nice.”

“Don’t get too used to it. I don’t usually sound like this,” El said.

“Yeah, I know. Does it hurt to talk? You don’t have to if it’s a hassle.”

“No, I’m fine,” El said, though the sound came out as a squeak. “I just hope you can forgive me. I should have explained before that I was sick.”

“You kidding me? I was _this_ close to signing up for an ASL class,” Erik teased, pinching his fingers together.

El laughed, then turned to cough into his elbow. “Still, I’m not going to be much fun today.”

“Hey, don’t sweat it! I’m just glad you’re not mad at me.”

“Of course not,” El said.

They smiled at each other. Silence stretched on between them. El cleared his throat again, frowning. He wasn’t sure whether he was in the right position to ask for another date considering everything that was happening.

“So, you up for another date anytime soon?” Erik asked.

El rubbed the back of his head. “Maybe? The semester’s pretty much over, and I go home on Thursday…”

“I’m willing to wait if I have to,” Erik said. “I’ll still be here next semester. _But,_ in return for having to wait so long, you have to tell me what you called me yesterday.”

“That’s not fair!” El demanded, his throat burning. He jumped up in his chair.

Erik smirked. “Take it or leave it.”

El sighed. “Sexy,” he muttered, quiet as he could.

“What was that?” Erik grinned.

El’s cheeks heated. He wanted another date, but he wasn’t _that_ desperate. _“Take it or leave it,”_ he sneered, throwing Erik’s words back at him.

Erik leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “You look cute, even when you’re angry,” he grinned. “I knew what you said. I just wanted to hear you say it again.”

El’s ears burned. “ _You’re_ a rascal,” he glowered, voice tapering out at the end as he recalled what Erik had called him yesterday.

“And _you’re_ a mess,” Erik teased, leaning over to flick his nose.

El covered his face, hiding his bright red cheeks from Erik. Erik laughed, full and hearty, as El regained his composure. It was true, he was a mess, but it was Erik’s fault. He peeked through his fingers at Erik’s grin, then leaned over and kissed his cheek in retaliation. El grinned when Erik started sporting a blush of his own.

“Man, I don’t know if I can wait ‘till August,” Erik joked.

"Me neither," El said, grinning.

**Author's Note:**

> I thought it would be fun to do a fic where El speaks sign language and Erik /doesn't/ understand him. Can I just say it was pretty fun to write?  
> I want to acknowledge that signing has its own grammar and that some written bits would not end up reading like that if they were translated directly from sign (the more you know!), and that I could have done more research for the bit about selective mutism, so I'm open to constructive criticism.  
> And as always, comments and kudos are appreciated :-)


End file.
